


Rick, Morty and Summer go to Gravity Falls (working title)

by orphan_account



Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Crossover, Gen, wholesome multifandom fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-11-29 21:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11449728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Rick takes Morty and Summer to a dimension where there's a place called Gravity Falls, to sort out some business with an old friend. Weird stuff goes down.





	1. arrival at the mystery shack

“You just wait out here for two minutes, kids. Grandpa’s got something to do for an old acc-urrrrp -accomplice.”   
After the absurd dimensions he’d found himself in recently, Morty Smith was pleasantly surprised to be standing on what seemed to be a fairly normal doorstep, surrounded by trees which appeared to be neither carnivorous nor glowing in strange colours, and shaded from the sun by a building which looked decidedly human-built. Looking up at his scowling sister, he was unsure that she shared his relief at the familiarity of their surroundings.  
“Geez Summer, why are you looking so mad all of a sudden? You should lighten up a little.”  
“Grandpa Rick said that he’d find me the best ride to prom in the galaxy, and it looks like we’re in, like, some kind of dumb lumberjack dimension. Tyler is totally gonna laugh at me.”  
“Aw c’mon, there might be tons of -of cool aliens and … space stuff around here. W-we can go explore when Rick’s done!” He aimed a playful punch at her shoulder.  
“Well it looks lame. I mean, “The Mystery Shack”? Seriously? What is this, Scooby-Doo?”  
There was a long pause as the pair continued to look around, clocking a totem pole, a beaten-up red convertible, and a sign proclaiming in a painted scrawl “MYSTERY TOUR $15 10AM NO REFUNDS!!” Morty absently scuffed his soles against the question-mark emblazoned doormat, and Summer eventually sat on the wooden step to scroll through prom dresses on her phone, twirling a loose strand of orange hair around her finger. Several minutes passed.   
“Rick sure is taking a while in there, huh? I-I hope he’s finishing up, I sort of could use a bathroom.”


	2. in which rick meets stan for the first time in about 20 yrs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick didn't warn Stan that he was turning up, and Mr Pines isn't happy, broh.

Rick Sanchez took a swig from his flask as he walked through the cluttered room. The Amazing Pizza-aardvark? Invisible Tap Dancing Gnomes Part II? Rick had seen some amusing tourist traps in his travels across the galaxy, but even to him it was clear that Stan had really let this place go since last time they’d been there together, forever ago. He wondered just how dull the rest of this town must be, or how gullible were its residents, for this heap of junk to be drawing in little clusters of tourists, whispering excitedly and flashing cameras. 

The irritable old man had no time for this, striding through the doorway to see the wide back of a dirty white vest hunched over, pouring a cup of coffee. There was a radio – Rick noticed that it was the planetary kind, which could only transmit a boringly limited range of wavelengths – tinnily emitting a rambunctious female voice. “Girl, you gotta get it together! Forget that man. If he don’t compliment your homemade pies, he ain’t worth your time.” Canned applause came from the radio, and Rick recognised the coffee-pourer’s voice, as it murmured its gruff approval to the radio host, as belonging to none other than Stanley Pines. The space-traveller leaned an elbow on the doorframe, deciding to wait for his old friend to notice him there. As the intro to a country song began on the radio, Stan turned around to flick it off, and promptly slopped his hot coffee all over his hands in shock at seeing the intruder. “Miss me -uurrp- Stanley?”

“AGH-Rick Sanchez? What the-” Stan winced at the scalding hot liquid on his skin, before he was cut off by the taller man walking towards him. “Lee. Your dumb brother called me here. Said something about a demon who can travel through- through thoughts or something?” Stan let loose a chain of elaborate expletives, his hands coiling into fists from the pain of the burn. “Oh, grow up, old man”. Rick grumbled, extracting an unsuspecting tube of ointment from an interior pocket of his lab coat, squeezing a sizeable dollop of pink goo onto each of Stan’s hairy hands, and spreading it across the area of reddened skin. Stan inhaled sharply at the lack of warning to the ointment’s sudden sting, before blinking in surprise at the appearance of soft, newly repaired skin. “Turbulent juice. You just grew a new epidermis, Lee. Shame this stuff can’t grow you a better attitude too.” 

Ah, the old Sanchez snark. Not something that Stan had particularly missed since his stint as a career criminal with this man as his accomplice. Nonetheless, he marvelled at how quick the paste had worked, and could’ve sworn that the swelling of his knuckle joints from years of punching things had just receded slightly. Stan still couldn’t help but grudgingly think that it would’ve been quicker to just run his hands under cold water, and that this excessive use of fancy potions and gadgets was so typical of Rick. “Listen, you asshole” Stan began, “I don’t appreciate you walking into my house after 20 years without any warning, and I don’t appreciate you and Stanford having conversations about MY business without MY knowledge.” He jabbed at Ricks chest with a gold-ringed finger to emphasise each word. The scientist chuckled, pushing Stan out to arms length. “As much as I love to get physical with you, Lee, a fight’s not what I’m looking for today. I’m just here to find this demon, blow it up, maybe hit a few bars and catch up on the last twenty years, then I can leave this lumberjack hell-hole.”  
At this mention of the demon, sections from unearthed memories flashed through Stan’s mind. The smell of charred flesh. A horizon engulfed by flame, and a high, echoing laugh so loud it quaked the ground. The terror of truly believing the world was coming to an end. He feared that Rick might finally have come across something he couldn’t just laugh off and effortlessly zap away with his genius. He clinked his empty coffee mug into the sink, and said in a low voice:“Sanchez, if you’re serious about getting rid of Bill for good, I gotta tell you a few things about him first.”


	3. 46 minutes later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morty and Summer are introduced to a new friend.

46 long minutes had passed since Rick entered the Shack, and his grandchildren were becoming increasingly hot and restless, Summer ineffectually fanning herself with her hands.  
“Ugh, what the heck is Grandpa doing in there? He’s been nearly an hour, and my phone’s on 3%.”  
“You can’t rush genius, Summer. I’m just sort of surprised that we’ve been standing in this same spot for, y’know, 46 minutes, and we didn’t even think to check up on- on Rick or anything. I mean, I didn’t even go pee. It doesn’t really make for an interesting adventure.”  
The quiet was broken by the sound of a rattling whir from the forest, and the beating of several pairs of wings as birds fled in surprise.  
“Crap, do you hear that, Morty?”  
“Yeah, I’m starting to feel kinda weird about this dimension. Maybe we should go see what’s up.”  
As it got closer, it became apparent that the figure moving towards the shack in a golf cart was not an alien, nor a huge, bipedal chipmunk, but a sweaty creature that looked to be on the large side, yet was definitely another human. A human who, in his black suit and fez, had not dressed for the weather. Swerving to a halt in front of the building, he noticed his two new visitors and hopped out of the cart, carrying a cardboard box.  
“Oh, hey dudes! Have you come for the Mystery Tour?” The man’s youthful face lit up at the possibility of visitors.  
“Um, sorry to be on your step, we’re just waiting for our grandpa to talk to a friend inside.”  
“Yeah, uh, don’t mind us!”  
“Oh” he tried not to appear too disappointed. “Well, you two seem like you’re boilin’ out here. D’ya wanna wait inside? The Mystery Shack is over 20% air conditioned, haha.”  
Morty and Summer exchanged a glance, asking themselves whether it was too soon to trust him.  
“Um, sure, if that’s ok, I mean...” gushed Morty, relieved to be able to get some shelter, and guessing from the man’s chubby grin that he meant no harm.  
“Just this way dudes. Whew, it’s sure gonna be a hot summer.” They passed through the door he held open. “Thank you very much sir”, said Summer. “Oh, you guys can call me Soos”, replied the man. “I went out for some more mystery popsicles but they’re already lookin’ kinda sticky” he added mournfully, gesturing with his head to the big box of melting, acid-bright question mark shaped ice pops he was carrying.


	4. “ford told me you know your way around portals.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rick and stan are having like a super heated discussion about hwo to get rid of billy c and its tense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: lewd language!!!!!!!! i think theres the s word in this one!!!! youve been warned!!!!!!!!

“So y-you’ve spent the last 30 years trying to clean up after your idiot brother’s _literally _summoning the apocalypse, and you still only managed to keep this triangle motherfucker off your back for a year?”__  
As Stan held his head in his hands in despair, Rick belched. He’d been helping himself copiously to his friend’s liquor over the course of his lengthy explanation of the situation in Gravity Falls, much to Stan’s chagrin at how much the whiskey had cost.  
“Real impressive Stanley. W-what is this, Christmas, but instead of-of Frosty the Snowman reruns, everybody in the town gets killed every year? I’ve seen some shitty annual traditions, but this really takes the-”  
“For cryin’ out loud Rick, would ya listen to me for a second?!”  
Rick’s glass gave a little jump at Stan slamming his thick fists onto the table. Accustomed to his memories from past friendships dripping gradually back into his mind with the help of pictures, used to meeting past inside jokes with a blank look or coming across aloof, Stan was surprising himself with the rapidity with which he was remembering this arrogant douche. He wished, bitterly, that he could swap a few of those memories for some others he had lost – preferably from his younger days with Carla.  
“Sorry, sw-uurrrrp-eetheart, do continue”, muttered Rick in a sarcastic undertone. It was clear to him that his friend’s lurching physicality had only increased with his crankiness over the years.  
“Ford told me you know your way around portals.”  
“Finally, something he’s not wrong about.”  
“Well, the way Bill’s trying to get into our dimension is through some kind of gateway - a rift. I need ya to find a way to keep him from doin’ that again.”  
“Whatever. I’ll get some supplies and your, uh, Bill Cipher, y’say? Fuck. These demons are sure bad at choosing human-sounding names, sounds like David Bowie should’ve played him in Labyrinth.”  
Stan narrowed his eyes quizzically.  
“Ah c’mon, don’t tell me your memory loss is so bad you’ve forgotten that movie from the 80s? With the labyrinth, and th-” He realised he was fighting a losing battle here. “Anyway. I-I’ll bust this demon’s balls for ya. Just lemme get some supplies and-”  
“WAIT!” Stan roared, jumping out of his chair and thrusting out both of his arms towards Rick, who had stood up and was poised with his hand on the portal gun to shoot out an exit from the grubby kitchen. This shout was immediately followed by a long wince; Stan’s joints, still unalloyed with various alien metals as his companion’s had long been, were unaccustomed to such rapid movements.  
“You can’t leave.”  
“Steady on, Stanley, y-you could at least take me out for that drink before you sta-”  
“No you idiot”, he continued gruffly: “You’re not safe outside here anymore. He can see everything. I’ve got a place for you to stay, but until Bill’s gone, you’ve got to be here.”  
“Are you fucking kidding me here? Y-you chose to wait until after I agreed to help you? I have my grandkids-” Rick tugged up his sleeve to glance at one of the 4 watch faces lined up on his wrist. It was later than he thought it would be. “...somewhere.”  
“Wait, you’re a grandfather now?” Rick’s shoulders had lost some of their broadness since his twenties, sure, his hair had turned an unnatural shade of pastel blue (was it dyed?) and he’d gotten some new wrinkles too – it would have made sense for Beth to have had her own kids by now, but the surprise still hit Stanley like an unexpected punch thrown hard to his chest. “What? And here you are calling me an old man? C’mon, we gotta find those kids somewhere to rest, Grandpa Sanchez!”  
The two old men walked out of the kitchen, quipping on their grandkids and great niece and nephew. It was a good thing that they were finally starting to break through their walls of sarcasm and aggression. This moment, sharing news of their newest family members, kept them so busy, in fact, that they did not notice the hundreds of glowing, unblinking yellow eyes, bursting from the kitchen walls like maggots from an apple, and widening as they watched them leave.


	5. to the gift shop!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morty and Summer get to cool down in the Mystery Shack's gift shop, and meet the girl working there.

“Welcome to the Mystery Shack gift shop, dudes!” Soos gestured them extravagantly into a room piled high with all manner of plasticky, question-marked paraphenalia. A taped-together electric fan propelled tepid air towards them with all of the force and efficiency of an asthmatic fly’s wheezing.  
“This is, like, one of the best mystery-themed gift shops in Gravity Falls”, he declared proudly, “At least in the top 10. Maybe even top 5.”  
From behind the till, a tall, bored-looking teenage girl nodded towards them nonchalantly without looking up from her magazine. (Morty noticed that her scribbled name badge read “WENDY”, and the name stuck in his head as he tried in vain not to blush too visibly.) The two newcomers looked around at the displays of pine tree hats and bobble-head dolls, noticing the shop’s incongruously RnB-flavored soundtrack: “Everybody do the Soos! Do the Soos! He’s the greatest chanteuse.”  
“Haha, I had a short music career in the early 2000s, dudes. Still sellin’ records though! Buy 1, get 8 free, if you’re interested.” He pointed a plump hand towards a basket overflowing with CD cases emblazoned with swirling neon colours. “Now, I’ve got a Mystery Tour” - he stretched out the words, speaking in a mock-spooky tone - “to give in a couple minutes, but I’m sure Wendy will make ya feel nice an’ welcome.” The redheaded girl looked up at the pair, her hazel eyes catching on Summer’s blue ones for a long moment. Soos, oblivious, was straightening his eye patch in a dusty ornate mirror by the door. “See ya later pals!”

“So, what brings you guys to the shack?” asked Wendy, putting her feet in their muddy black boots up on the counter in the absence of her boss. Her flannel shirt, choppy auburn bob and unfazed demeanour gave her an immediate air of bad-assery. Morty and Summer both began eagerly talking at the same time, before Summer finished their explanation.  
“Our grandpa has a friend here who he wanted to come and talk to, so we were, like, waiting outside and, uh… Zeus, was it? He said we could come and cool down in here. I’m Summer, by the way, and this is my brother, Morty.”  
“Oh, so your grandpa knows Stan, Summer? Unlucky guy”, Wendy smirked. “Can I get you two anything? Ice cream sandwich, something to drink?”  
Summer was wary about eating and drinking in dimensions other than her own. There was no way of knowing (unless you were Rick) if the water’s composition differed in a slight way which made it deadly, or if the native species was used to digesting things that would make humans sick for weeks. Also, she’d recently had an unsavoury experience with one of Rick’s pranks involving a dimension where all food was full of tiny blue bugs, and was still trying to forget the revolting sensation of them swarming in her mouth. 

“Um, no thanks Wendy” Summer replied firmly.  
“Aw geez, uh, s-something to drink sure sounds good?” Morty chipped in. The boy had barely got any cooler from being inside, and thought thirstily of cold lemonade fizzing on his tongue.  
“Sure man.” Wendy hopped off her wooden stool, strolled over to a tired-looking cooler cabinet - “MYSTERIUS COLD STUFF $4 EACH!!!”, read the neighbouring cardboard sign -, and got out an ice cream packet and a couple of cans. “Catch!” She tossed one of the cans at Morty, who yelped and shielded his face with his arms, letting it smack onto the floor and roll in a circle. Embarrassed, he quickly scooped the can up and snapped open the ring pull, avoiding eye contact. His sister hissed a warning at him, scolding his lack of awareness of what the drink might be containing. 

But Wendy, overhearing her, remained cool, laughing at Summer’s vigilance - “Don’t worry bro, you can totally trust the Pitt Cola. Craziest thing you’ll find in there is the pit.”  
Morty took a long gulp and shot a “told you so” look at his sister, who rolled her eyes.  
“Oh, and the special ingredient, uh, cyanide. It’s what we use to sweeten soda here.”  
The boy's eyes widened in horror and he messily spat out a mouthful of liquid.


	6. best buds, maybe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i bet yall were thinking "heyy i thought this was a gravity falls fic!! wheres dipper and mabel" well hOLD ONTO YER HATS because here we come bitches

By sunset, Morty and Summer were starting to relax and enjoy themselves in Gravity Falls. 

Soos and Melody were delighted to use the arrival of their guests as an excuse for a plentiful welcome barbecue, and delicious smells wafted around the little groups of people chatting and toasting marshmallows. Since Morty’s earlier embarrassment with Wendy (she’d been mildly impressed by the radius which his mouthful of peach soda ended up reaching, recalling her childhood victory in a spitting contest and chucking him a question-marked tea towel to sop up the mess) he was letting his guard down in this dimension, one which seemed to be very much similar to his own.

Well, there was one big difference. In this dimension, Morty had a friend.

Staggering through the Shack’s door in a full-body protective suit and carrying a large net strapped to his back, Dipper Pines originally didn’t come across too friendly. His tall, broad-shouldered and identically dressed companion (except for the bundle of bright orange fur wriggling in his own net) did nothing to lessen this suspicion. But when Soos offered Morty the spare bed in Dipper’s room to sleep, the two boys quickly bonded; first over their excitement at the realisation that they were from different dimensions, then over stories of their wildest adventures. They also shared an unspoken mutual non-judgement of each others voice cracks, which gave the friendship a certain trust. Their conversation had continued to the side of the campfire, where they were sharing stories and s’mores.  
“I still can’t believe you’ve actually flown a spaceship dude, my mind is totally blown… so your grandpa takes you on all of your adventures, right? He seems pretty cool.”  
The boys looked over at Rick, who was sitting with two other men, with a flask in one hand and a sort of silver helmet that he was inspecting in the other.   
“Well, Rick is, he’s, uh….” Morty trailed off as he saw his grandfather toss the helmet away, so it rolled perilously close to the fire. He’d obviously deemed it unworthy of his genius, and judging by their shouts, this had angered the two other men. This was so like Rick, to be making adversaries this quickly.  
“I-I dunno man, he can be kind of an asshole”, Morty finished quietly.  
“He must be crazy smart though, if Grunkle Ford asked for his help,” Dipper speculated - “Ford knows pretty much everything there is to know about anything.”  
“Is that him there?” Morty looked over at the figure who had quickly run to the fireside to retrieve the helmet, and who was now checking it over.  
“Yup, that’s one of my great uncles. Maybe he and Rick will become best buds, I mean he did spend 30 years in a portal once, and it sounds like they both love adventure, just like us… hey, maybe we could all go adventuring together at some point, we could, like, show you some creatures and stuff and I could try flying the spaceship!” Dipper’s voice rose to an excited squeak at the end of his sentence.   
Meanwhile, Morty watched as Ford clutched his damaged helmet to his chest, and left the group silently to retreat into the Shack. The other, paunchier man pushed Rick angrily, and the two got to their feet and squared up, looking as if they were ready for a fistfight.  
“Yeah… best buds, maybe” Morty sighed.


End file.
